Dividend
by BadassCatNinjaXion
Summary: Marsuvees Black wants revenge. Getting disintegrated really really annoys him, and he wants to get even.. He even has a plan. He just needs to convince two of his major failures: Barsidious White and Sterling Red, that its worth while... And he's lost brownie points where they're concerned... T for swearing.


**Hello! BadassCatNinjaXion, here, hi :)**

**This is a passion of mine.**

**And since nobody seems to share it, (yet) I'mma go it alone!**

**This is a story that contains *SPOILERS!* well... Sort of. DON'T READ IF YOU HAVEN'T READ SHOWDOWN, SAINT, AND SINNER!**

**(come to think of it, if you haven't read Showdown, Saint, Sinner, Skin, House, Adam, or Thr3E you shouldn't be in this community browsing at all :) **

**This story also contains swearing!**

**Lots of lovely swearing XD**

**alrighty then!**

**Disclaimer: TED DEKKER OWNS EVERYTHING. EXCEPT THE STORY. I OWN THE STORY :3**

Divedend

The dingy warehouse leaked. There were holes in the rafters that let in the rain and the snow and pretty much whatever else that Mother Nature wanted to toss onto the building in the hopes of penetrating it.

That was its first failing.

The second was that in its former days of sound roofed glory, the whole building had been used to smuggle aquatic creatures from one illegal faction to the next.

The whole building reeked of _fish_.

Marsuvees Black waited in the darkness, experiencing all negative factors of the pre-chosen meeting place; the constant drip-drip onto his hat, the steam rising from his precious coat, and the god awful smell.

He could have chosen a nice place to meet, a resort in Hawaii, for instance.

Now there was accommodation!

But the owners of those fancy-shmancy resorts would not like him or his friends. No, not one little bit.

Yes, this dark, drippy, smelly warehouse was more suited to him and his purposes.

It matched his personality, deep deep down.

Except for the fishy stink and the leaks, it was almost like his soul.

Bored, Marsuvees rifled through his pockets for his cigarettes.

They were one of the more pleasurable human inventions, he thought as he successfully found one and slipped it between his lips. Right up there with cyanide and the atom bomb. The two things humans had managed to create, and create purpose for.

Marsuvees snapped his fingers and a small yellow flame popped to life, dancing merrily on his index fingertip for a second before promptly going out as a large raindrop spattered against his hand, plunging the warehouse into darkness again.

Marsuvees cursed around the cigarette between his teeth, throwing the roof a glare that turned into a shrewd scan for movement.

He _would_ be early...

There was a soft tap-tap noise from the surrounding darkness, and Marsuvees snapped his fingers again, the flame maintaining its existence this time. He touched it to the tip of his cigarette, then shook his hand to extinguish it as he took a deep pull Of the toxin laden tobacco.

The tap-tap sound got louder and more hollow sounding, like someone kicking something metal repetitively.

Marsuvees Black exhaled smoke like a dragon and turned.

Two light blue eyes stared back at him from the darkness, only a few feet away.

"You..?"

Black narrowed his eyes. "I thought-"

Slowly the tap-tap became a tap-tap-clank and a pair of silver eyes appeared in a dull metal face next to the unblinking blue eyes, which now looked a little cynical. Or was that just Black's imagination?

Black looked down, letting his hat obscure his wide grin.

_Both of them, together? What was going on?_

Red and White _never_ travelled together if they could avoid it...

"Black."

The soft word came from the masked fiend with silver eyes.

"Why have you called us here?"

The butane gaze of his companion never wavered as he stepped forwards into the light thrown by Marsuvees' fire and revealed himself to be nothing more than a slender, attractive blond man with penetrating blue eyes and a cruel smirk.

"Red," Marsuvees greeted, tilting his hat. "You're looking well."

"What do you want, Black?"

Red's voice was soft and insidious, and slightly feminine.

The one poor sucker who, in a drunken stupor, pointed out that fact, and the other, slightly less known fact that he was built more along the lines of a woman, ended up swinging from the rafterbeam of his hotel room the same night. Sterling Red was not a man people should underestimate.

And you never, _ever_ called him a girl.

Marsuvees thought over his speech and cursed mentally.

Their arrival together threw him off.

He took another pull on his cigarette, relishing breathing smoke rather than oxygen as he thought. It truly was a curious feeling...

"My friends," he finally spoke, his voice deep and gravelly, "We can agree, I believe, on this. I hate you, and you hate me. Am I right?"

Sterling Red's blue eyes seemed to shimmer with the heat of his gaze.

"A get together? You're going senile, old man."

Marsuvees glared at him, and Red glared right back, his blue eyes flashing with contempt.

_How could that be?_

_He was a puppet, wasn't he?_

He was just a creation from a book, an automaton—and yet...

Marsuvees growled, his own eyes flashing dangerously. He snapped his fingers and flame flared up, bathing the blond man in a russet glow. It also illuminated Barsidious White, standing a little ways away, not involving himself in his brother's conflict.

_How very wise of him..._

"I can burn your insolence out of you. How _dare_ you talk to me like that! Have you forgotten who _created_ you?"

Sterling Red rolled his eyes. "Oh _please_, save the party tricks for those who care, Black, and tell us what you intend to do with that book of history you have hidden in your coat."

Marsuvees felt his mouth drop open. _Speaking of party tricks..._

"How...?

Red smiled, displaying his white teeth. "Please, give us some credit. After

all, we _do_ take after you..."

Barsidious stepped forwards into the light of Black's flaming hand and eyed him.

"Why did you call us here, Marsuvees? Enough games."

White's voice was soft, but his eyes spoke of ice and death and houses with no end and no entrance.

Black chuckled. "Alright, alright."

Marsuvees turned from White, back to Red, who had his arms crossed.

"You're absolutely right, Red. I do have a book. I do have a plan with this book, and I need your help."

Sterling Red growled, his blue eyes flashing fire of their own. "Fuck. You."

Marsuvees raised an eyebrow at the outburst but said nothing as the other man continued.

"I may have been born from a fucking piece of fucking paper, but I've grown. Hell, have I _grown_. And as I grew, I will add, I _learned_. Do you want to know what it was that I learned? I learned that you, Marsuvees Black, are one mother-fucking piece of _work_. There's more. I not only _hate_ you, I _despise_ you. Every leather clad, god blaspheming, stupid, _grinning_, fire-conjuring, irritating, egotistical, the-Devil-is-my-fucking-boss, look at me _inch_ of you. And I also learned that _trusting_ you, Marsuvees, is not only a _terrible_ idea, its an idea that could get me _killed_. It fucking _did_.

I died, because of _you_, and when I died, I remembered. Who was that son of a bitch who led me to this? Oh yeah! _It. Was. You."_

He tilted his head.

"So, I'm refusing to help you now, and ever again."

Sterling Red looked Marsuvees over. "I learned _my_ lesson. They won, I died, Good triumphed over evil, yada yada yada, as it did for White and as it did for you. But you just won't let it lie, _will_ you? You always have to be the last one standing. I won't join you this time. By God's grace, yes _God_; since Satan didn't give a _damn_... I'm alive and breathing again, and this time you won't drag me down with you when you're flung to hell and your plans and preparations destroyed with you."

Red's blue eyes narrowed and he smirked. "Hear me, Marsuvees. Your power over me is no more. You can't control me anymore. I choose life." His grin widened. "And that means no."

Marsuvees Black's lip curled.

"You _what_? Who are you to choose _anything_? You may _think_ you're a saint _now_, but you'll always be a _sinner_... Worse! You'll always be a _Demon!_"

Sterling Red tilted his head again and took a step back, his eyes twinkles of blue fire.

"Oh, I know. But _anything_ is better than what awaits us when we fail _again_, because I have a feeling that whatever gave us this chance at life; be it divine power, an anomaly, the grim reaper taking a _piss break_, whatever it is... It won't come again."

Marsuvees tilted his own head, his black eyes shrewd. "You're just going to abandon your brother?"

Red's eyes glinted in the blackness as he retreated. "White can take care of himself. He's a big boy now."

Black snarled as even the faint reflection of Sterling Red's eyes vanished suddenly.

"I will _hunt_ you _down_, do you _hear_ me? I will _blacken_ your _bones_! I will _kill_ you for this!"

Red's voice echoed from somewhere in the darkness, laughing.

"Get _real_, Black. You barely have enough power to light that flame of yours."

Marsuvees ground his teeth, but didn't rise to the challenge. "And you have none! Only fancy gun skill and good looks!"

Barsidious's eyes sparked, and he shook his head minutely at Black but Marsuvees was too furious to care. He yelled at the blackness, his fire spitting hot sparks. "You're nothing but a _pretty boy!"_

There was a soft hiss as the rain pattered over the warehouse roof.

"_Aha_," Black sneered, "_Now _I have your attention!"

There was a sharp snapping noise and then Marsuvees was scrabbling at the noose that had suddenly appeared around his throat, knocking off his hat. Red stalked towards him, the rope a living thing in his hands, tightening, his blue eyes blazing.

"_Never call me a prettyboy."_

Black's face contorted, and he held his hand up to the rope, burning right through it.

"You _motherfucker_, Red." Black rasped, heaving for breath and tearing the noose off his neck. "You just tried to kill me."

"Something I should have tried a long time ago, actually."

Marsuvees's black eyes flashed, and a tendril of red flame licked up his shoulder. "Now I'm mad."

"I'd hate to see your temper tantrums." The blond man cooly retorted, tossing the now worthless skien of rope aside.

With a sound akin to a roar, Marsuvees Black threw himself at Red, who nimbly leapt out of the way. "You're getting slower. Is it the arthritis?"

Black turned around and glared at the blond man with a hate so hot Barsidious thought Red would melt.

"Your impudence known no bounds, Sterling Red."

"Ah, yeah, thats because I never trained it."

And the two men rushed at each other again.

Barsidious White tried to watch the fight emotionlessly, as he always did. Emotion was an alien thing for him, it didn't gel with his logic or his perspective of the world. But now Sterling Red was fucking with his perspective. _Again_.

Always Sterling Red was there, even when he wasn't wanted, the man—who really could be a boy in a man's body judging by his maturity level—hung around, chatting, grinning, _lounging_. White couldn't understand why he _wouldn't go away!_

And then Marsuvees Black appeared and shattered his grip on reality and explained the blond man's presence.

Him and Red were twins. _Twins_? They looked _nothing_ alike. Marsuvees explained that he had written them—_written, what the fuck_—written both of them within the same paragraph. _Whatever that meant. _Basically both him and Sterling Red weren't _real_. They had been imagined up by Marsuvees Black, then jotted down in his handy-dandy Book of History, and Poof!Instant minions!

Barsidious White usually didn't think too much about it. It hurt his head.

Marsuvees was pretty easy going. He didn't ask much, just unswerving loyalty and obediance. There was only one rule where Marsuvees was concerned.

Rule Numero Uno: _Black was always right._

And now, Barsidious found himself doubting that rule.

Red was challenging their creator and it was screwing White up. Black always said that they would never have free will, so how the fuck was Sterling Red defying him? And now, this brought an interesting set of options to Barsidious's table.

Did he fight with his twin? Did he side with his creator? Did he simply _observe_?

Barsidious growled, backing off. It was too much for him. Morality, the choices.. He didn't want any part of it.

Sterling Red's blue eyes flicked to Barsidious's and with a snarl, Marsuvees wrapped his hands around his throat.

"Now, Traitor, you die!"

Red jerked beneath Marsuvees's crushing grip, kicking the bigger man in the stomach and side, trying to buck him off... but Marsuvees would not be dissuaded.

Sterling Red thrashed frantically, one of his hands desperately fumbling for the long knife in his belt, but then, it was like the light behind his blue eyes just went out. His eyelids slid shut, his whole body shuddered, and then went limp. Marsuvees Black choked him for a couple more seconds before removing his hands and standing.

he brushed off his long jacket and chuckled. "No-one can defeat me."

He bent and retrieved his hat, dusted that off too.

Barsidious looked at Red, lying on the ground like a fallen puppet without emotion, and then saw his finger twitch. White blinked, but kept the surprise from showing in his eyes. No emotion. He must not show emotion.

Sterling Red slowly sat up and shook his head, it got rid of the ringing sound the sudden suffocation had brought on.

He was no stranger to lack of air. In fact, he was a master at it, and had trained his body accordingly, lest someone turn his own tricks upon him. Now, he was thankful he had...

Marsuvees stiffened and turned, his face twisting into something furious at being thwarted.

"You sneaky _fucking_ devil."

"I reserve that title for you, actually."

Black snarled, conjuring a large fireball, but Red just held up a battered black book. "uh-unh uhh.. Not unless you want your plans destroyed."

Marsuvees just barked out a laugh.

"You fool, now they've been set into motion!" He allowed a moment of gloating laughter and extinguished the fireball as Sterling Red swore and dropped the book.

It was time for him to disappear.

Marsuvees smirked. "If curiosity killed the cat, you'd be long dead and buried, Sterling Red."

Black was still cackling as he vanished in a swirl of smoke and flame.

Barsidious bent and picked up the fallen journal. He scanned the pages, and then his eyes grew wider, and wider.

"Red," he growled, "look at this."

Sterling Red snarled in irritation and stalked over. "What?" He spat, "What is it?"

White handed the book back.

In Marsuvees's spidery scrawl was one line of text.

_And nine months later, to the day of contact of this page, a girl was born._

Red blinked. He turned around, took a single step, and then fainted from oxygen deprivation.

**Hahaha! BRW FTW!**

**I do take full responsibility for the total wtf of this story, because there IS a WTF.**

**I might write more... Heh. **

**The allure of the Black, Red, White pairing-(not THAT kind!) is that they're crazy psychos. But.. WHAT IF?**

** It opens up THOUSANDS of ways for an author to... Exercise her creative powers. :3**

**Its also pretty funny, because as of yet, there was only 1 remotely funny story, and it was taken down because NOBODY LIKED IT! WTF! Well, screw it. I've got my community, Even if I'm the only member!**

**So, READ AND REVIEW. THOUSANDS OF PEOPLE READ STUFF SO JUST WRITE SOMETHING! GOOD! BAD! WEIRD! YOU KNOW THE DRILL...**

**XION, Badass Cat :3**


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